


I Run to You

by Avengergirl17



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4389221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avengergirl17/pseuds/Avengergirl17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Bellamy is in trouble, and Clarke is the only one he's ever trusted enough to share his secrets. How will she help him and keep her friend in the dark about her brother's problems at the same time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Clarke jumped and rolled out of her bed, hitting the wood floor with a thud. Another scream drifted through her bedroom door, and she scrambled to her feet. She wrenched it open, blinded by the bright living room light.

            She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the scene before her. Octavia stood with her hands over her face, sobs racking her thin shoulders. She turned her gaze from the emotional rollercoaster that was Octavia Blake, to the form crumpled against the wall.

            Clarke’s breath hitched at the sight of Octavia’s brother and the dark red staining his white t-shirt. Scrapes and bruises covered his face and neck, his eyes were closed and that maddeningly gorgeous hair of his fell across his forehead in unruly curls.

            She rushed forward, kneeling beside his still form. They had an odd relationship, she and Bellamy Blake. She’d known him since she was seven years old, and they’d both spent the majority of their lives trying to take care of O.

            They could barely stand one another most days, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about the man before her. She placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, turning his eyes to settle upon her own.

            Octavia was still screeching noisily, and Clarke had had enough.

            “Be quiet, O,” she said softly.

            Octavia quieted, her face tear stained and her hands shaking.

            Clarke stared at her friend, knowing that she was terrified.

            “Why don’t you call Maya and see if you can stay with her,” she said kindly.

            She watched as O nodded her head before making her way from the apartment. Then she turned her attention back to Bellamy.

            “Thanks Princess,” he said with a groan.

            “Any time,” Clarke replied with a small smile.

            This reminded her of another time that Bellamy had come home like this. It had been six years ago.

            _Clarke was sitting in her bedroom, her sketchbook in her lap and a charcoal pencil clutched in her fingers. She’d been drawing one of her favorite subjects, sixteen -year-old Bellamy Blake. She knew at fourteen that her crush on her best friend’s older brother was pointless, but she just couldn’t help it._

_Her gaze flew to her window when the sound of a pebble hitting the glass reached her ears. She quickly raised the pane, leaning out and staring into the darkness._

_That’s when she’d seen O, tears streaming down her face and blood splattered on her clothes. The other girl was crying, and Clarke knew that if she didn’t quiet her that her parents would hear._

_She raised a finger to her lips, and listened as Octavia’s sobbing turned to sniffles. She raced from her bedroom, making sure her parents’ door was closed before running down the stairs and out onto lawn._

_“What is it, O? What happened,” Clarke asked as her friend hugged her._

_“Bellamy, he’s hurt,” Octavia whispered._

_That was all Clarke needed, “Ok, show me.”_

_When the girls reached the Blake house, both were out of breath. Clarke followed O into the house, and saw Bellamy on the couch. He was so still that it scared her, and then she heard him moan._

_“O, get plenty of towels and put some hot water in a pot,” she called._

_Clarke approached the couch, the stench of blood turning her stomach. He looked terrible, scraped and bruised. His left eye was nearly swelled shut and his ribs were probably cracked._

_“What happened,” she whispered._

_“It’s none of your business.”_

_“Bell, what happened,” Clarke asked sounding much older than her fourteen years._

_Bellamy sighed, “Money’s scarce. I joined the Grounders to make some extra dough. I can’t let O get stuck in the system.”_

_“You shouldn’t have done that, Bell. My folks could’ve helped you. They adore you and O,” Clarke said, her heart aching for the boy shuddering with pain._

_“It’s done, Clarke, so don’t mention any of this to Octavia,” Bellamy told her harshly._

_Clarke nodded, her features worried._

_She dipped one of the towels into the hot water, ringing out the excess before gently cleaning away the dried blood and dirt from his skin._

_“O, go get the med kit I swiped from my mom,” Clarke said as she finished cleaning the cuts and scrapes._

_When Octavia returned, she opened the white box and pulled out the alcohol. There was an apology in her eyes as she began to sterilize his wounds. After she was finished, she taped his ribs then stood and cleaned her hands on one of the towels._

_“Put a bag of peas on that eye, and watch your ribs. I’d feel better if you went to the hospital,” Clarke said quietly._

_“No hospitals, but thanks Princess,” Bellamy said ruffling her hair._

_“Any time, Bell.”_

            Clarke shook herself from her musings and helped Bellamy from the floor. He winced as he stood, and she supported a great part of his weight as she led him to the bathroom.

            She helped him to sit down on the closed toilet lid, and then grabbed the scissors from the top drawer.

            “Always prepared aren’t you Princess,” Bellamy said with a raised brow.

            “With you Blake, I’ve got to be ready for anything,” Clarke groused.

            She cut away the white material to reveal his corded muscles and blood stained skin. She probed the jagged wound with gentle, experience fingers. He grunted in pain, but remained still.

            Although she hadn’t followed her mother’s wishes and become a doctor, that didn’t mean that she didn’t scour medical books and learn all she could. She had an artist’s hands, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t inherited her mother’s surgeon skill.

            Clarke grabbed her emergency kit from under the sink, and riffled through its contents. Her hands settled on the iodine and a clean washcloth. She cleaned the wound, disinfected it, and then wiped the grime and dirt from this face and chest.

            “Alright, Blake, you know the drill,” she said as she began to pack up the medical supplies.

            She watched him as he made his way from the bathroom and into her bedroom. When she finally made it to her room, he had changed into a fresh pair of sweats and was lying on her bed.

            Clarke laid a towel on the sheets beside him, and then began to suture the frayed edges of the jagged gash together. He lay quiet and still; that’s one thing that made treating Bellamy worth while, he was an amazing patient.

            When she was finished she bandaged him up, and gave him some pain medicine. She left him there while she gathered up some pillows and a blanket. She made up the couch, and then helped him into the living room.

            Clarke saw him settled before going to wash her hands. She set a glass of water on the coffee table beside him, felt his forehead for any sign of fever, and then went to clean up the mess.

            She cleaned the bathroom, the smell of bleach burning her nose. She threw away his t-shirt, and rinsed the washcloth until the water was clear once more. She went to her bedroom and grabbed his pants off the floor, pitching them in the washing machine with the bloody towels and washcloth.

            After she was finished, Clarke wandered back into the living room to check on Bellamy. He was out, his hair sticking out in all directions and dark circles forming under his eyes.

            She wished he could be free of Lynx and the crew. He couldn’t keep this up forever, and she was terrified one day he wouldn’t come home. She sank down in the recliner, her watchful gaze fixed on the sleeping form.

            Sometimes they acted like they hated each other, but both knew they didn’t. It was just easier to hide behind their sarcasm and banter than admit their feelings. She smiled when she heard him mutter her name in his sleep, much like she knew she spoke his in hers.

            Clarke’s eyes moved to the door, Octavia’s form highlighted by the light from the hallway outside the apartment. She watched her friend as she hovered over her brother, and then turned her eyes upon Clarke.

            “How is he,” she asked quietly.

            “He’ll pull through,” Clark answered.

            “What happened this time,” Octavia asked, her eyes traveling over Bellamy’s sleeping form.

            “Rough night at work, I think. He didn’t say much,” Clarke lied.

            She was still amazed at how long they’d kept his secret from O. Especially since she was dating a Grounder named Lincoln. That had been an interesting day. Clarke was sure that Bellamy would blow his top.

            “Thanks for taking care of him Clarke,” Octavia said with a smile.

            “Sure, no problem. You should get some sleep. You’ve got class tomorrow.”

            “You do too,” O answered.

            “I need practice functioning without sleep,” Clarke grinned.

            “Uh huh, whatever you say,” Octavia said as she walked from the room.

            Clarke turned her attention back to Bellamy and found him staring at her.

            “Go to bed Princess,” he growled.

            Clarke almost laughed. When Bellamy Blake used that tone most people quaked with fear, but she could see right through his bad boy persona.

            “Nope,” she said popping the ‘p’.

            Bellamy glared at her, but soon closed his eyes once more.

            “Why do you have to be so stubborn,” he said drowsily.

            “I learned from the best, Bell,” Clarke said with a chuckle.

            Then she watched him relax, and listened as his soft snores filled the quiet room. Bellamy Blake could be a pain in her neck, but she couldn’t imagine life without the infuriating man.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

            Bellamy woke with a groan. His shoulder burned and his body ached. He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the dim living room. He smiled when he saw Clarke asleep in the recliner.

            She was curled on her side; the chair leaned back, and covered in a leopard print fuzzy blanket. Her blonde hair frizzed in all directions, and her lips formed an adorable pout.

            He tried to sit up, grimacing and stifling a moan. He realized he hadn’t been quiet enough when Clarke shot up, the recliner popping upright. The look on her face was priceless, a mixture of confusion and frustration.

            “What are you doing, Blake”, she grumbled rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

            “Just trying to get more comfortable, Princess”, Bellamy said with a grin.

            “What time is it?”

            “About nine,” he answered.

            “Are you hungry? I’m starving,” Clarke said with a yawn.

            “I could probably eat something,” Bellamy chuckled.

            “I’ll make some breakfast then,” she said as she got up.

            Bellamy watched as she shuffled to the kitchen, one hand moving to her neck and rubbing the taught, aching muscles. He rose slowly, ignoring the pain, and made his way to the island.

            He pulled out one of the stools, easing down on the dark wooden surface, settling down to watch the princess work. He’d eaten plenty of her cooking over the years, and he was reminded of one such instance.

            _Bellamy had come in from a long day of work at the garage, his head hung low and steps dragging. He’d opened the door of he and Octavia’s dilapidated house, his senses assailed with the smell of Italian food._

_He made his way to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of blonde hair. He rounded the corner, her off key humming making him smile. Clarke stood in front of the stove wearing a pair of denim shorts and one of his many white t-shirts._

_At sixteen she was gorgeous and very hard for him to ignore. Ever since that night two years ago, she’d been the one person he trusted most. He trusted her with Octavia, but more importantly he trusted her with himself._

_“Whatcha cooking Princess,” he asked with a smirk._

_“Chicken Alfredo. I saw the news earlier and figured your day had been less than stellar, so I thought I would fix one of your favorites.”_

_He didn’t bother looking surprised. There’d been a gang fight, but thankfully he’d missed out on it. It had ransacked the mechanic shop he worked in for Lynx, and he’d had to get everything back in order._

_“Thanks. Where’s O?”_

_“She’s out with Jasper,” Clarke said with a knowing grin._

_“Hmm, well at least I okayed that one,” he groused._

_“He’s a good kid, Bell. I don’t know how long he’ll be able to entertain her, but he’ll take care of her all the same,” she said throwing a smile over her shoulder._

_“What are you doing here,” Bellamy asked with a frown._

_“Mom,” Clarke replied quietly._

_The one word said it all. Clarke’s dad had died two months ago and ever since she’d spent more time at the Blake residence than she did her own. However, something was different about this time._

_“What happened?”_

_“She kicked me out”, Clarke said matter of factly._

_“What do you mean she kicked you out,” Bellamy cried._

_“We got into it, and then she just told me to get out. Didn’t even let me get my clothes. I guess I’ll have to run by when she’s at work and pack up.”_

_Bellamy was angry. How could her mother just kick her out! Then his shirt made sense, she didn’t have any other clothes._

_“You’ve always got a home here,” he said seriously._

_Clarke turned and smiled at him, “Thanks Bell.”_

“Do you want pancakes or bacon and eggs,” Clarke asked, pulling Bellamy from his thoughts.

            “Whichever sounds good to you,” he said with a smile.

            He already knew what it would be.

            “Pancakes it is then,” she said with a grin.

            Bellamy watched her as she made the batter, her off key humming making him smile just like always. Her hips swung from side to side, and soon she was singing at the top of her lungs.

            She threw him a smile over her shoulder, and soon he was chiming in.

            “Cuz I’m all about that bass, bout that bass, no treble”, they sang in unison.

            They both burst out laughing, tears running down their faces.

            “We should take our show on the road,” Clarke said with a grin.

            “Whatever you say Princess,” Bellamy chuckled, “Are those pancakes ready yet? I’m about to waste away over here!”

            He watched as she heaped a pile of pancakes on a plate, slathering them with peanut butter, and then smothering them with syrup. She set the stack before him, and then poured him a glass of milk.

            “Better watch it. You’re gonna spoil me,” Bellamy grinned.

            “Blake, I’ve been spoiling you for years,” Clarke said dryly.

            “Touché! Mmmm, these are awesome!”

            He scooted over and made room for her at the island. She sat down, sending him a sidelong glance. The mirth left her blue eyes, replaced by serious appraisal.

            “Don’t say it, Clarke,” he said quietly.

            “I’m going to say it whether you want to hear it or not. I worry about you, Bellamy. I just wish you could get out of this mess.”

            Bellamy stared at her, looking into her concern filled eyes. She’d been one of the only people in his life who’d ever cared. Octavia loved him, but at times she was too busy with her own drama to notice what was going on in her brother’s life.

            It worked out in his favor, made it easier for him to hide his involvement with the Grounders from her. However, the blonde beside him missed nothing. Those blue eyes had always seen him whether he wanted them to or not.

            “I know, Princess, me too,” he said honestly.

            “There’s got to be something, Bell,” Clarke said pleadingly.

            “The only way to get out is in a body bag,” Bellamy replied darkly.

            “We’ll think of something.”

            Bellamy looked down to find her hand on his forearm, her thumb rubbing back and forth against his skin. He tried to give her a reassuring smile before going back to his breakfast, the syrupy goodness not quite as enjoyable now.

            After they’d finished, he rose from his seat and placed his dishes in the sink.

            “Well, Princess, thanks for taking care of me,” Bellamy said with a wink, “I’ve got to get back to my place.”

            “Be careful, and you could drop by just to visit occasionally you know,” Clarke said with a smirk.

            “Point taken. Where’d you put my pants,” Bellamy asked, his gaze scanning the apartment.

            “I’ll get them. I’ve got one of your shirts too”, Clarke said as she got up.

            Bellamy leaned against the wall, staring down the hallway. He watched her as she bent to take everything out of the dryer. He caught his pants as she tossed them in his direction before moving into her room.

            He caught sight of her digging through the bottom drawer of her dresser, pulling out a gray t-shirt.

            “Leave your sweat pants in the bathroom and I’ll wash them. I’ve only got one extra set.”

            Bellamy stepped into the bathroom, her words startling him. One would think that O would be in charge of his clothing, but here was Clarke collecting different articles of his apparel like it was normal.

            The thought brought a smile to his face. It shouldn’t surprise him. She’d been taking care of both of them since Octavia had met the little blonde spitfire on the playground of ARK Elementary.

            He changed clothes quickly, leaving the sweats near the tub. He walked out into the hall and found Clarke pulling the blankets from the couch, moving to the washer and dumping them in.

            Bellamy pulled on his shoes before making his way to where she was pouring detergent into the large metal drum.

            “Thanks again, Princess”, he said gripping her hand gently.

            “You’re welcome, Bell. Try to stay in one piece for the time being, ok?”

            “I’ll try. Bye Clarke,” he said with a wave.

            As he made his way out of the apartment, he couldn’t help but wish he could stay. He’d come to find that in life, home wasn’t a house it was a person and Clarke Griffin had definitely become the closest thing he’d had to home in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

 

            Clarke heard the front door open, and the cheerful voices of her roommate and her boyfriend. She didn’t know how the two made it. Octavia knew that Lincoln was a Grounder, but there was still so much she didn’t know.

            Clarke sat up on the couch, grabbing the remote and switching off the TV. She knew she must look a mess, but she just really didn’t care.

            “Hey guys,” she said with a fond grin.

            “Hey girlie! Where’d my big bro head off to? Did you not go to class today,” Octavia asked with concern.

            “He went back to his place about three hours ago I think, and no I did not go to class today,” the blonde answered.

            “I see you two had pancakes without me. No fair,” O said with a devilish smirk.

            “We felt like pancakes,” Clarke said defensively.

            “YOU felt like pancakes. Bell can’t stand them,” Octavia said, brow arched in challenge.

            “He can’t stand YOUR pancakes. He’s rather partial to mine, especially because I have a secret ingredient,” Clarke said with a grin.

            “The peanut butter is no secret. My brother would eat dog crap if you put it on a plate,” O said dryly.

            Lincoln laughed at the girls’ banter. He had to agree with his girlfriend though; Bellamy had a soft spot for the petite blonde. He’d seen the way they seemed to read each other’s minds through a light touch or quick glance. It was really creepy and he and O had discussed it at great length.

            “So, what are you two doing tonight,” Clarke asked of Lincoln.

            Before he could answer, Octavia chimed in. “We’re going to this brand new coffee shop on Main! You should come with!”

            “I don’t know…”

            “Come on Clarke, please,” O begged.

            “Fine,’ she said with a smile.

            “Yes! I’ve finally succeeded in getting you out of the house!”

            Clarke rolled her eyes and made her way to the bathroom. She turned on the tap, the shower coming to life in a steamy spray. She washed away her drowsiness, but her worry for Bellamy lingered.

            She shoved it to the back of her mind as she towel dried her hair, staring into the mirror at the exhausted features that stared back at her. She’d seen that face before, but not in a long time.

            _Clarke was sitting on the couch watching the Lion King with Octavia when the doorbell rang. She watched as O got up to answer it, pausing the movie before she left. It was just about to the Hakuna Matata part, and that was O’s favorite._

_“Clarke, your mom’s here!”_

_Clarke went to the door and found her mother standing there with tears coursing down her cheeks._

_“What happened?”_

_“Your father’s been shot.”_

_“What? How,” Clarke stuttered._

_“Clarke…” Abby said pleadingly._

_Something snapped in the little blonde and suddenly she was hurtling towards her mother. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, holding her in place._

_“You! You told him! You told Jaha what Dad found in those blueprints!”_

_“Honey, Thelonious didn’t kill your father,” Abby insisted._

_“Listen to yourself! Did you honestly think that because Jaha has a ‘special’ thing for you that he wouldn’t retaliate? How stupid can you be,” Clarke screamed._

_“Clarke, you need to come home,” Abby said firmly._

_“No!”_

_“As your mother, I’m telling you to come home.”_

_“You murdered my father. I can’t bare to look at you let alone be in the same house with you,” Clarke whispered._

_She felt the arms around her loosen slightly, and then the tears started. She turned into Bellamy’s chest, soaking his shirt with her tears. His hands rubbed up and down her back in a soothing motion._

_“Shhh, I’m here,” he whispered._

_Clarke clung to him like a drowning person would cling to a life preserver. Soon, she found herself on the couch still wrapped in Bellamy’s embrace. She lay against his chest when all her tears were spent, staring into nothingness._

_“How do I go back,” she asked brokenly._

_“I don’t know,” Bellamy answered honestly, “What I do know, is that you’ll always have a place here.”_

_She’d practically lived with Octavia and Bellamy after that. She couldn’t bear to be around her mother, and she had the impression that her mother felt the same. They didn’t speak, and hardly ever even saw each other. Abby stopped asking where she went or what she did, letting Clarke govern her own life._

When her hair wasn’t wringing wet any longer, Clarke pulled it up in a messy bun before putting on a tiny bit of make up. She made her way into her bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans, a pair of tennis shoes, and a gray sweatshirt.

            It wasn’t until she was out the door that she noticed Octavia’s smug grin.

            “What’s that about,” she asked in a slightly agitated tone.

            “Did you get dressed in the dark or something?”

            “I don’t look THAT bad,” Clarke said with a snort.

            “Clarke whose sweatshirt is that,” O asked sweetly.

            Clarke glanced down at the garment and felt her cheeks warm. In faded black letters the font read “Silver Fox Body Shop”. She raised her head, defiance shining in her blue eyes.

            “It was in my dresser, that makes it mine.”

            What Clarke didn’t mention was the fact that it still smelled like Bellamy, she just marched ahead. She ignored the chuckles behind her and jogged down the stairs. She opened the double doors, the cool night air soothing her burning cheeks.

            She waited for the lagging couple, her hand gripping the handle of Lincoln’s SUV. She heard the locks pop, and then climbed into the backseat crossing her arms over her chest.

            Clarke heard Octavia laugh, the girl staring at her in the rearview mirror with a fond expression.

            “Are you going to be grouchy all night,” she asked.

            Clarke huffed, and averted her gaze.

            “You’ve been spending too much time with Bell.”

            This brought Clarke’s eyes back to O’s, a blush creeping up her neck.

            “I never said it was a bad thing, Clarke,” Octavia said with a soft smile.

            At her best friend’s quiet words Clarke smiled, “I promise not to be a grump.”

            “Good.”

            The threesome arrived at the Mount Weather Coffee House, going inside and ordering their coffee before grabbing a booth. The atmosphere was warm and a band was playing on a small platform.

            Clarke looked around, her eyes floating about the room and taking in every detail. She heard the bell ding telling them their coffee was ready.

            “I’ll get it”, she said motioning for O and Lincoln to stay seated.

            She made her way to the counter and picked up the tray of coffee, turning around to walk back. However, a man ran into her at that moment. The three hot beverages spilled down the front of her, or rather Bellamy’s, sweatshirt.

            Clarke raised her angry gaze to stare at the man, his mouth agape and an apology on his lips.

            “I’m sorry. Here let me…”

            The man said beginning to dab at the dark stain on the front of her shirt. Clarke dropped the tray, slapping his hands away and yanking the napkins out of his grip. She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice Lincoln approaching, a slight frown painting his features.

            “Is everything alright, Clarke,” he asked sternly.

            “Yeah, everything’s fine. This idiot is just a klutz, and Bell is going to kill me,” Clarke mumbled.

            “I am sorry miss, I’ll gladly buy your coffee. Just tell me what you and your friends are having and I’ll take care of it.”

            “Well it is the least you could do,” Clarke snapped before rattling off their order once again.

            After paying for the coffee, mystery man turned to her with a smile and an extended hand.

            “I’m Finn. I’m sorry we’ve gotten off to such a rough start,” he said kindly

            Clarke found that for some reason she couldn’t be too angry with him, “I’m Clarke. It’s nice to meet you Finn.”

            She watched as he turned to go, and then for some reason she invited him over.

            “Why don’t you sit with us, if you have time I mean,” she stammered.

            Finn’s features lit as he nodded enthusiastically. He followed her back to the table and took the seat beside Clarke.

            Octavia gave her the strangest look, and Lincoln didn’t look happy either. She could only imagine what Bell would have done. The thought made her blush, which in turn caused O to grin like the cat that got the cream.

            They talked, slightly strained but enjoyable nonetheless. Soon, Clarke checked her watch and decided it was time for her to go. She wanted to check on Bellamy before she headed back.

            “Well, I think I’m going to head home. I’ve got class tomorrow,” she said with a sigh.

            She quickly stopped her friends from getting up, “I’ll get a cab. Don’t worry about it.”

            “I could drive you home”, Finn offered with a smile.

            Clarke stared at him for a moment, wondering if she should accept help from the kind stranger. Then Bellamy’s voice popped into her head, the same speech he’d always given her and O about stranger danger, and found herself grinning.

            “I’m not exactly going home. I’ve got to look in on an old friend first, but thanks for the offer,” she said as she rose to leave.

            Octavia grinned, giving Lincoln a wink. “Pay up, mister.”

            “Why did I even bet against you,” Lincoln asked with a huff.

            “Because you’re too sweet to tell me no. Besides, I’ve known that Bell was Clarke’s real best friend for ages. You’ve got a little catching up to do.”

            “So, this guy is just her friend,” Finn asked hopefully.

            Octavia smiled, “For now.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

Chapter 4

 

            Bellamy sat at his rickety kitchen table, nibbling on stale pizza. It had been a long day at the shop, and he was getting tired of the every day run around. He had just taken another bite, chewing thoughtfully, when he heard a knock at the door.

            He tried to ignore it, but the loud banging persisted.

            “Keep your shirt on, I’m coming,” he yelled around a mouthful of food.

            When he opened the door a certain blonde shoved past him into his tiny apartment, the smell of coffee drifting along behind her.

            “I intended to stay fully clothed, Bellamy Blake,” she said with a wry grin.

            “Wouldn’t expect any less, Princess. What are you wearing”, he asked with a knowing smirk.

            Bellamy chuckled as Clarke’s neck began to redden, the blush slowly coloring her cheeks. Then she tilted her head to the side, that look of challenge that he loved entering her eyes.

            “My sweater,” she with as much dignity as she could muster.

            “Whatever you say Clarke,” he said with a chuckle.

            He watched her as she shook her head with an embarrassed grin before following him back to the table.

            “How are you?”

            “Still sore, but I haven’t ripped any stiches yet,” Bellamy answered.

            “You go to work today,” Clarke asked nonchalantly.

            “Yep. Lynx get’s suspicious when I miss.”

            “Bell, does the guy not pay attention? Surely he knew you got roughed up in that territory brawl the other night.”

            “He doesn’t much care, Princess.”

            “We have got to find a way to get you out of there. You can’t go on chopping cars until you get caught,” Clarke said desperately.

            “I know,” came his quiet reply.

            “Surely…”

            “I’m done talking about it, Clarke.”

            “Ok,” she answered softly, “I met somebody tonight.”

            “Oh really, is that why you smell like the inside of my coffee pot,” Bellamy groused.

            “Yeah, he kinda spilled coffee all over our shared sweatshirt,” she said with a grin.

            Bellamy stared at her, remembering the last boyfriend she’d had and the complete and utter disaster it had been.

            _It had been a sunny day in June, and Bellamy had just gotten home from the shop. He’d walked through the front door to find Clarke and O seated on the couch with two boys._

_The girls were seventeen, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. Usually all male visitors had to be cleared through him first before either girl could pursue any kind of relationship._

_“Hey, Bell,” Clarke called with over her shoulder with a smile._

_He nodded, watching as she rose from her place beside a blonde jock and made her way into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms, looking him up and down._

_“What,” he asked harshly._

_“Something’s wrong. Spit it out Bell. Did something happen at work today? Are you hurt, did you bust your stitches,” she asked in reference to the knife wound he gotten two days earlier before quickly grabbing for his shirt._

_“Whoa there Princess,” he said with a smirk, taking her hands in his own._

_His smile grew at the faint blush that crept across her cheeks, and the warmth that was seeping from her hands into his own._

_Just then a voice sounded at the doorway, “What’s going on?”_

_Bellamy felt Clarke’s fingers slip from his own as she made her way over to the jock._

_“Oh hey, Scott. This is…”_

_Clarke didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Scott grabbed her arms painfully, pulling her face eye level with his own._

_“You cheating on me, b…”_

_Bellamy sprang into action, disentangling Clarke from the other guy’s grip and quickly shoving her behind himself. Then he turned to glare at the intruder._

_“Touch her again and you’re a dead man,” Bellamy growled._

_Scott had the sense to see that taking on the older man would be a mistake, so he simply directed his anger at Clarke._

_“We’re through,” he sneered as he turned to go._

_Suddenly Bellamy felt Clarke’s hands fist in the back of his shirt, and her head came to rest in the middle of his back. He stood there, her hot breath sifting through his shirt and warming his skin._

_Finally he turned around and took her in his arms. She shivered, and one of his hands moved to her neck. He massaged the taught muscles, his fingers brushing against the smooth silky strands of her blonde curls._

_“You’re safe. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he said close to her ear._

_“Thanks Bell. I’m so sorry about that. I should have known he was bad news,” Clarke whispered._

_“It’s ok, Princess. You keep things exciting,” Bellamy said with a smirk._

_“We both know that’s O’s job,” she chuckled._

_“I guess you decided to split the work load today then.”_

            Clarke’s voice quickly brought him back to reality.

            “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m going to take things slow. I’m not going to have a repeat of junior year,” she said with a smirk.

            “Good, because my temper’s got more of a hair trigger than it used to,” he replied seriously.

            “You can say that again! Now, let me look at those stitches,” Clarke said seriously.

            Bellamy moved to sit on the couch, pulling his shirt off as he went. He watched as she settled on the worn coffee table in front of him, her features a mask of concentration.

            He hissed when her fingers ghosted over the thin row of tiny dark lines, drawing her expressive blue eyes to his face. His skin tingled with her touch, and he would be lying if he said she didn’t affect him.

            Clarke had always had brought about odd feelings, even when they were younger. He knew she cared for him, knew she saw through whatever mask he chose to wear to hide his feelings.

            The thought that he was losing her to someone else hurt, but if he was honest he didn’t deserve her. He was ensnarled in a ruthless gang that would probably one day end his life, so he had no business wishing for something that couldn’t be.

            “I want to meet him,” Bellamy said quietly.

            “Bell, I don’t know…”

            “You know the rules, Princess, I have to approve of all male friends,” he said darkly.

            The sound of her laughter filled the room, and warmed his heart.

            “All right, Blake, if it means that much to you,” Clarke said with a grin.

            If only she knew how much she meant to him. Maybe one day he would be free of Lynx and his crew. There was always hope, and the blonde sitting before him would always be his.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

            Clarke was sitting in her anatomy class when her phone began to buzz. She discreetly pulled it from her pocket, her heart in her throat. She was terrified that something had happened to one of her friends, but soon gave a sigh of relief when she saw Finn’s name on the screen.

            She read the text, a smile playing on her lips.

            F- **Would you do me the honor of allowing me to buy you dinner tonight?**

Clarke held back a giggle, her fingers tapping in quick secession giving her reply.

            **C-I suppose. Especially since you owe me :)**

**F-Great! I’ll pick you up at 7.**

            She put her phone back in her pocket, her giddiness fading slightly. What would Bellamy think? She felt like she was almost being unfaithful to him. She did her best to shove those thoughts to the back of her mind, already planning what she would wear.

            That afternoon, Octavia sat on Clarke’s bed watching her friend pilfer through her closet in search of the perfect date outfit. She could tell that Clarke liked the guy, but she also sensed that there was something holding the girl back.

            “Has Bell met him yet,” she asked out of the blue.

            Clarke turned to her roommate, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

            “Not yet,” Clarke answered.

            Octavia grinned. That was going to be an interesting sight.

            “Is he going to meet him?”

            “Of course! I can’t date a guy without my best friend’s approval!”

            After the words escaped her mouth, Clarke turned to Octavia –her lips forming a perfect o and her features painted with surprise.

            “O, I…”

            “Clarke, I’ve known that my brother was the most important person in your life since the day of your father’s funeral,” Octavia answered.

            Clarke stared at her friend, the memories from that day flooding her mind.

            _She sat in the front row of chairs under the tent at the cemetery, her eyes glued to the casket. Rain poured off the thick water-resistant material, the cold wind chilling her to the bone._

_Everything around her mirrored what she was feeling. She could hear her mother sniffling softly beside her, but she ignored it. She didn’t care about what her mother was feeling because she was too lost in her own grief and anger._

_The only thing that kept her grounded was Bellamy’s hand in her own. He’d been within arm’s reach since she’d been informed of her father’s passing. He was her anchor and without him she knew she would be lost._

_Clarke listened as the priest spoke, the words not penetrating the fog of sorrow that surrounded her mind and heart. She got up and placed a rose on the casket at the appropriate time before walking out into the rain._

_She had no umbrella, no coat. The rain soaked her clothes and hair, running down her face in rivulets. She heard Bell and Octavia coming along behind her, but she kept walking._

_Finally Bellamy’s black pickup came into view. She crawled in, squeezing into the middle seat. She felt him sit beside her, his shoulder brushing her own as he turned on the ignition._

_The drive home was quiet, and Clarke was lost in thought. Fears she’d been holding back assailed her as she glanced at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye. After losing her father, she didn’t know how she would survive losing the man beside her too._

_By the time they reached the old house on W. Clearwell Road, silent tears were pouring down Clarke’s face. The light was fading from the sky as the sun set, and the temperatures were dropping._

_She followed her friends into the house and went silently to the guest bedroom across the hall from Bellamy’s. She changed into one of the t-shirts she’d swiped from him and crawled beneath the covers._

_After her eyes closed, and sleep claimed her, Clarke was haunted by dreams of her father’s death that soon turned into nightmares of Bellamy’s demise. She screamed his name, tears pouring down her cheeks as she watched the blood drain from his body and the light fade from his eyes._

_Bellamy had run into her room to find her writhing beneath the sheets, screaming his name over and over. He’d placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her until her blue eyes opened._

_She’d wrapped her arms around him, sobbing, her tears running down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his t-shirt._

_“Please don’t ever leave me, Bell. Please,” she’d begged._

His words still echoed in her ears, _“I’m right here, Princess, and I’m not going anywhere.”_

“I’m sorry, O,” Clarke said quietly.

            “It’s fine. I’m just glad that my brother has you to keep him grounded.”

            “I don’t know. I think Bell is the one who keeps me sane half the time.”

            “With as clumsy as he is, I don’t see how you don’t get tired of patching up all those bumps and scrapes. I swear he’s been a walking accident since he turned sixteen,” Octavia said with a chuckle.

            Clarke froze. She wished that O could know the truth, but that’s not what Bellamy had ever wanted. So, instead she just forced a laugh.

            “Yep, he’s a klutz alright. Do you think the black one or the red one,” Clarke asked, holding up two dresses and trying desperately to change the subject.

            “Umm, that one. You always look great in red,” O said with a smile.

            “Red it is.”

            Clarke checked her watch, finding it to be a little before six. She rushed through her make-up routine, and threw her hair up into a neat ponytail. She’d just come out of the bathroom when she heard the door open.

            She raced to her bedroom, pulled on her dress and strapped on her heels. She entered the living room, a smile on her face, only to meet the dark eyes of none other than Bellamy Blake.

            “Bell, what are you doing here,” she asked, slightly breathless.

            “I came for a visit. O said that you had someone for me to meet,” he said with an ornery grin.

            Clarke glared at Octavia before turning back to Bellamy, “Sure, he should be here in about ten minutes.”

            She watched as Bell’s eyes scanned her form. “You look great, Princess,” he said when he caught the self-conscious look in her blue eyes.

            “Thanks, Bell,” she said with a warm smile.

            Then a knock sounded at the door. Clarke rushed to answer it, nervousness bubbling up inside her. Finn stood on the other side, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his face.

            “Hi, you look… Wow,” he said as he handed her the flowers.

            “Thank you,” Clarke said with a shy smile.

            The sound of a throat clearing brought them out of their little moment.

            “Finn, this is Bellamy. Bellamy this is Finn,” Clarke introduced.

            “Ah, you must be the friend,” Finn said as he extended his hand.

            Clarke watched as Bellamy took Finn’s offered hand, his grip strong and obviously slightly painful.

            “Are you ready Clarke,” Finn asked as he rubbed his hand.

            Bellamy’s deep voice cut Clarke off, “Just a minute Princess. I’ve got a few questions.”

            “Do you mind Finn? He’ll never let us go until he clears you,” Clarke said with an exasperated grin.

            “Uh, sure, I don’t mind one bit,” the young man said nervously.

            They all made their way to the living room, silence hanging heavily in the air until Bellamy spoke.

            “So, Finn, what do you do?”

            “I’m an astronomer.”

            “Of course you are, Spacewalker,” Bellamy muttered.

            “I really love my job, studying the stars,” Finn said smiling at Clarke.

            “I heard how you two met, are you always so touchy feely with women you just met,” Bellamy asked darkly.

            Clarke stared at him in shock, she hadn’t told him about the napkin incident. She turned to O, a question in her gaze, but the other young woman simply shrugged. That left Lincoln. Of course he would have tattled.

            “Bell, he was just trying to help,” she said trying to defuse the situation.

            “Of course he was. Where are you taking her,” Bellamy asked suddenly.

            “A little sushi bar down town, it’s…”

            “Princess hates sushi,” Bellamy interrupted.

            Finn immediately looked to her for confirmation, his eyes wide.

            “I’ve never really tried it, but it sounds delicious,” she lied glaring in Bellamy’s direction.

            The dark haired moron just grinned, his velvety brown eyes dancing with something she couldn’t explain.

            “Why princess? That’s an interesting nickname,” Finn said sounding slightly annoyed.

            Clarke laughed, “The first time I met Mr. Bellamy Blake I was seven years old. O and I were trick or treating together, and Bell came along. I was a fairy princess. He kept calling me princess to get on my nerves, but it just stuck.”

            Her eyes traveled to Bellamy’s, an affectionate smile curving her lips.

            “You two have a long history,” Finn said quietly.

            “Yep, Clarke and I go way back,” Bellamy said grinning.

            Clarke stared at him, the guilt coming back to bite her. After sitting here with he and O, all she wanted to do was go put on her sweats and one of his shirts and spend the evening watching their favorite movies.

            Instead, she rose from the couch pulling Finn with her.

            “If you’re done, we have a date to get to,” Clarke said smiling at Finn.

            As she was about to walk out the door, Bell grabbed her elbow gently.

            “I’m only a phone call away if you need me,” he said seriously.

            She kissed his jaw. “I’ll be fine. See you later, O,” Clarke said, her eyes never leaving his.

            Then she was out the door, her hand resting in the crook of Finn’s arm as he led her downstairs. Their date was fun, but she didn’t like the sushi. This only reminded her of how well Bellamy knew her, which in turn made her feel guilty for not being with he and O.

            When Finn finally dropped her off, she told him goodnight, and opened the door of the apartment before he could kiss her goodnight. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, the faint glow of the TV lighting her way to her bedroom.

            She put on her favorite pair of yoga pants and one of Bell’s sweatshirts before making her way into the living room. She found the man in question sitting on the couch, his stocking feet resting on the coffee table.

            Clarke eased down beside him, her shoulder brushing his side, as she got comfortable. She felt his arm wrap around her, drawing her closer. The sent of his cologne assailed her senses, and she breathed deeply.

            “Are you sniffing me,” he said in an amused whisper.

            “Yep,” she said with a grin.

            “Do I stink or something,” he grumbled.

            “No, you always smell good,” Clarke chuckled, “I’ve always loved the smell of your cologne. Smells like home.”

            Bellamy stared down at her, watching as her cheeks turned red in embarrassment before she quickly added.

            “You wore so much when we were growing up, the whole house smelled like you.”

            He grinned. She was just digging herself in deeper and deeper.

            “Yep, but at least I didn’t smear on three pounds of make-up every morning and hog the bathroom!”

            Clarke swatted his stomach, and soon the fight was on. He tickled her, focusing on her sides and her feet. They fell in the floor, their racket causing Octavia to glare at them from the recliner.

            Then something changed. Clarke was lying on her back, and Bellamy hovered over her. Their gazes locked, heat spreading through her body. She swallowed hard, and quickly disentangled herself.

            “I should go to bed, I’ve got an early class,” she stuttered.

            “Uh, yeah, I’ve got to be at the shop early in the morning,” Bellamy replied.

            At the mention of the shop, Clarke’s breath hitched. She hugged him tight, before tiptoeing to whisper in his ear.

            “Be careful, Bell. I can’t lose you too,” she whispered before kissing his cheek.

            “I’ll always be here, Princess. Good night,” he said tightening his hold.

            “Good night,” Clarke said as she watched him go.

            “I wish you two would get over yourselves,” Octavia grumbled from her seat.

            “It’s not that simple,” Clarke answered before making her way to her room.

           

           

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts! :)


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